


have you ever felt the warm embrace

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, Impractical sex, M/M, PWP, Smut, coldflash - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>of a leather seat between your legs?</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Barry and Len have sex on a motorcycle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have you ever felt the warm embrace

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever write something and then wonder to yourself, _what the fuck am i doing with my life_ , because while this is far from the craziest thing i’ve ever written, i still can’t really believe i wrote it. honestly. i don’t know what i was thinking or why this, of all my fics, is what decided to be written.
> 
> anywho.
> 
> inspired by [downtown by macklemore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGhoLcsr8GA), because... well, because.
> 
> enjoy!

 

Barry’s arms are growing tired, aching with exhaustion from how tightly they’re wrapped around Len’s shoulders. Barry is clinging to the older man as though his life depends on it—and if the bike were actually moving, that might be true. Instead, the motorcycle is rumbling and vibrating with power but not going anywhere. The kickstand rests on one side of the ground, and Len’s foot planted firmly on the other side holds the bike up steady.

“Doing alright, Scarlet?” Len taunts as his fingers skim the line of skin between Barry’s shirt and pants.

Barry can’t begin to string together a sentence, so he settles for glaring. It just earns him a chuckle from his boyfriend. Barry clenches his legs around Len’s waist in retaliation and encouragement. It doesn’t spur Len into action, which isn’t surprising really. Len’s smirk just grows and his fingers move even slower.

“What? This isn’t enough for you?” Len gestures to the bike and where their bodies are pressed together, cock against cock though layers of fabric.

Barry lets out a keening noise before he can help it. Faintly in the back of his mind, a feeling of smugness blooms when Len finally falters. The older man flushes a brief pink and his fingertips skitter frantically for a moment. Barry smiles and lets one arm drop from Len’s shoulders to the minimal space between them.

Wordlessly, Barry makes quick work of his own button and zipper as well as Len’s, releasing their cocks to the chilly night air. Len shudders and his fingers dig into the flesh of Barry’s waist. His nails bite the skin unrelentingly. “Fuck, Scarlet.” Len drops his head forward and nuzzles at Barry’s face. “You gonna touch me?”

Barry shakes his head, smile turning into a coy smirk. He settles back against the handlebars and starts to stroke his own prick—and his alone. Len watches him with wide, dilated blue eyes and Barry takes in the attention like he’s starved for it. He makes a show of getting off even though he’s normally not one to put on such a display. When he’s alone in his bed, he takes his time but doesn’t get crazy, not like _this_.

Granted, handjobs while sitting on a running motorcycle in the bad part of Central City kind of blows past crazy into straight up insane territory.

Barry gasps as Len revs the bike beneath them, the vibrations running through Barry’s veins like fire. Despite the fact he’s still mostly clothed, the vibrations rumbling against his ass almost push him over the edge too soon. The hand he still has looped across Len’s shoulders clenches and releases in times with his strokes.

“You look so good like this, Scarlet. Never knew you were such a slut.” Len murmurs, and though his words would sound harsh or even crude, they only come off as awed and reverent. Len looms over Barry to cover the younger man’s body with his own. He’s desperate to feel the heat coming off Barry in waves.

Barry shudders when Len’s breathe cascades over his face, hot in contrast to the icy night air around them. Barry strokes his cock faster, rolling his hips up into his fist with only precome to slick the way. It’s almost too dry, almost too cold outside, but the opposing temperatures and textures just drive Barry closer to the edge.

“You’re killing me, Barry.” Len’s voice is almost tender but mostly strained. Barry drops his gaze to peek at Len’s own prick that’s hard and leaking. “Let me touch you.” Len asks as he moves closer, to the point that Barry is more in his lap than the seat of the bike. Barry only shakes his head and moves his hand faster.

“I—!” Barry moans and it echoes in the alleyway they’re parked in. “I want you to fuck me.” He finally manages to gasp before tugging Len in for a kiss. Barry keeps talking into the kiss and Len breathes in every word hungrily. “I want to come all over your fucking parka,” Barry pauses to look at the jacket hanging on Len’s shoulders, covering their predicament as best it can. “And then I want you to fuck me, and I want you to come inside me—!”

Len’s interrupts with a groan.

“And I want to come all over this leather seat.” Barry finishes just as tension starts to coil in his stomach. “Fuck, Len, I’m close.” Barry does his best to relax, leaning on the handlebars with his legs draped over Len’s thighs, body vibrating in tandem with the bike. Len sits back and the movement not only has them more expose to the outside world but also gives Barry exactly what he wants—

—Barry vibrates his hand around his cock and comes in thick spurts on the front of Len’s parka now that it rests on his chest instead of covering their bodies like a curtain. He’s still riding the waves of his orgasm when he starts laughing.

Len rolls his eyes, affectionate and patient despite the throbbing between his legs. “Had your fun, Scarlet?”

Barry, dazed and sated, nods. He grins at Len from hooded eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t love it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” Len retorts and moves to cover Barry’s body again.

The speedster stops him. “Lube?”

Len barely resist the urge to roll his eyes again, and pulls the needed tube from the pocket of his come-stained parka. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Barry pinches at Len’s nipple through his shirt in revenge. “You’re such a jerk.”

“And yet, here we are.” Len responds like he has every time Barry’s said that. It’s a usual song and dance for them and holds no venom, only affection. “If you really want to come on the seat, you’re going to need to rearrange, Scarlet.” Len observes as he sits back again.

Barry looks between them, then around them, before humming with agreement. “You’re lucky I’m more graceful now than I was before the lightning.”

“Lucky? I’ve seen you trip over nothing.” Len retorts. All the same, he helps Barry twist until the speedster is balanced in Len’s lap, pants dangling off one ankle, knees on the seat and hands on the handlebars for support. “I swear to god if we start to fall, you better put that super speed to good use.”

Barry’s only response is to press his ass against Len’s still straining cock, and that’s answer enough for Len.

He makes quick work of fingering Barry, stretching him from one to two to three fingers far faster than they normally do. Barry doesn’t complain, though, only ruts against the feeling and keens at the loss when Len pulls back.

“You ready?” Len asks even though he’s already slicking up his cock.

Barry looks over his shoulder at Len, wiggles his ass in a way that should be ridiculous but almost makes Len come—and if that isn’t love, well, Len isn’t sure what is.

Len reaches with one hand to guide Barry back onto his cock. He teases for a moment, lets his cockhead brush against the pink rim of Barry’s ass, catching on his stretched hole without pressing inside. Len’s having far too much fun wringing the gasps from Barry and isn’t expecting it when Barry presses back and takes the entire length of Len’s cock in a single swift movement.

“Fuck!” Len lurches forward and presses his forehead between Barry’s shoulder blades. “Fuck, Scarlet, god.”

“Barry will do,” the speedster teases as he clenches slowly around Len. “C’mon, fuck me already.” Again, he shoots a look over his shoulder to entice Len.

It must work because Len immediately starts to move. He knocks at Barry’s knees until the younger man drops his legs and his feet are just barely touching the ground. Before Barry can ask, Len has both hands on Barry’s hips and is pulling them to meet his every thrust.

Len can hear the moans catch in Barry’s throat at the sudden onslaught of sensation. He grins to himself and moves faster, rolling his hips as best he can without knocking them off balance, gripping Barry’s hips hard enough to bruise. He watches as his prick sinks inside Barry each time and has to bite his lip, _hard_ , to keep from coming at the sight alone.

“Len, c’mon, fuck,” Barry’s head is low between his shoulders and he’s nearly hiding his face in his hands. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Len taunts though he’s got a fairly good idea what Barry is asking. “You want to touch yourself?” He can just barely make out the mop of brown hair shaking _no_. “Want me to touch you, Barry?” Len coos, slowing his thrusts so he can inch a hand towards Barry’s stiff cock. Len trails his fingertips through the curls just above Barry’s cock, traces the sensitive line of skin between hip and thigh, then thigh and prick. “Say it.”

“Please, _please_ touch me, or I swear to god—!”

Len thrusts forward to the hilt at the same moment he curls his fingers around Barry’s cock. He strokes the taut, flushed skin in the same rhythm that he rolls his hips against Barry’s ass. Len barely pulls out before thrusting fast and hard again to bury himself inside Barry as deep as he can. The movements are slow and measured and each thrust draws another gasp from Barry.

“Len, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

“Yes,” Len aims for teasing but the pleasure has his voice coming out thinner than he’d like. “That’s what we’re doing, Scarlet, _fucking_.”

“I—hate— _you_.” Barry barely manages to hiss as his body tenses. “I’m going to come,” he warns as the heat builds at the base of his spine. “Faster, harder, c’mon!” Barry snaps as he does his best to fuck into Len’s loose grasp and grind back against him.

Len finally relents in teasing and thrusts faster, harder, deeper and matches his hand to the pace as well. He can feel the tension coiling again in Barry’s body; can feel as Barry’s skin grows hot with vibrations that rattle against the rumbling of the motorcycle. “Come for me, Barry, all over the seat like the slut you are.” Again, his voice is too enamored to be harsh, but the words push Barry toward the edge all the same.

Barry grips the front of the bike, one hand accidently curling around the handle and revving the engine again. The buzzing of the bike sends him over the edge and he’s coming with Len’s name on his lips and his come splattering onto the leather seat. He shakes so hard for a moment he’s worried he’s going to send them both toppling off the bike—but Len’s firm grip on his hip keeps them steady.

Len presses deeper inside Barry, presses his chest all along the speedster’s back and he tries to get as close to Barry as possible. His hand falls from Barry’s softening cock and instead his arm curls around Barry’s waist to hold him still as Len fucks into him faster, faster, until his mind is fogging over. Len groans against Barry’s back as the speedster softly vibrates under him, tipping him toward orgasm.

Barry squeaks quietly when Len comes inside him; his body is already over sensitive and the feeling of come inside him and Len’s pulsing cock is almost too much. He doesn’t push the older man away though. Instead, Barry takes what Len gives even if it’s frying his brain. Len jerks against him in the aftershocks, murmuring _Barry, Barry, Barry_ under his breath as he comes down.

They both still eventually. Barry grins and knows Len shares the expression. Wordlessly, when the night air’s chill mixes uncomfortably with their exposed skin, both men begin to move. Barry waits for Len to pull out before sliding off the motorcycle. He stops when Len’s hands are on him again, and shudders when he realizes Len is wiping him clean with—a handkerchief?

“Don’t start, Scarlet.” Len admonishes as though he knows what Barry is about to say. “It’s this or ruin your pants and given where we are, I don’t think you want to rush home in the nude.” Len raises an eyebrow and only relents when Barry nods. Len cleans Barry as best he can and tosses the handkerchief aside when he deems the job done.

Barry flashes into his pants and stares expectantly as Len puts himself back together as well.

Eventually, their eyes fall on the come drying on the seat.

“You realize you’re cleaning that, right?” Len grumbles, eyes moving to the stain on his parka as well. “And this too. Dry-cleaning only.” He warns.

Barry rolls his eyes but steps up to Len. “Fair enough.” He cups Len’s face and kisses him on the lips gently. “I can’t believe we did this.”

“It was your idea, Scarlet.”

“I know, which is even crazier.” Barry laughs into the kiss.

Len’s hands find Barry’s hips like it’s their home. “You never cease to amaze, Barry Allen.”

“Whatever.” He slaps Len’s shoulder playfully. “I should probably get going.”

“What, you don’t want a ride on this luxurious, not at all sexed up motorcycle?” Len gestures grandly to the vehicle in question.

Barry laughs again and shoves Len just hard enough to make the man and bike tilt. “Nah, I need to get back to the labs before they wonder where I am. And I’m sure Lisa and Mick are just up worried sick over you.” He teases.

Len shrugs. “Suit yourself, Scarlet.”

Barry grabs Len by the collar of his shirt and hauls him in for another kiss before they part ways. “Call me?” Barry asks, voice edging on nervous.

Len’s expression softens from taunting and suave to more delicate and sweet. “Don’t I always?”

Barry gives him a blinding grin before speeding off.

 

It’s not until he’s back at the latest safe house, parka balled up in a suspicious lump under his arm, that he realizes Barry left him a clump of cash partner with a little note—a little scribbled heart, _for the bill_ written underneath it—in the back pocket of his jeans.


End file.
